


A Better Normal

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: 5 Things, Family, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Growing Up, Slice of Life, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman's life wasn't the only one that was changed by ending the 'Witch's Curse'. 5 ways life got better for those around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courtney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courtney's little brother really isn't so bad.

"He's no weirder than I am. Actually, he's just as weird as I am. I like him."  
-Neil Downe, [ ParaNorman novel](http://readparanorman.com/)

* * *

"Okay, now explain it to me again." Courtney said, staring down to her little brother. "Why are we going to a Space Adventure movie?"

"Cause Mom and Dad won't let me go unless it's with someone who's older than 13." Norman dutifully replied, looking weary as he stared at the ground instead of at her. "They're both busy and they're only showing it this weekend." 

"No, No." Courtney waved a perfectly manicured hand. " _That_ part I get. What I don't get is what are _you_ doing, going to see a Space Adventure movie. Are there any Alien Zombies, or crazy Brain Eaters in it?" 

"Oh!" Norman brightened, looking up to give her a small crooked smile. Her brother had never been much for smiling, but since they'd come to accept the fact that yes, he could see and communicate with the dead, her little brother had blossomed into... Well, not exactly a more popular person, but someone who actually smiled sometimes and interacted like normal people did. "It's cause Neil's a fan of Science Fiction movies, and he said he'd go with me to see the next Raising Dead film if I went with him to watch this one."

"Okay!" Courtney nodded, relieved. " _That_ makes sense. Was starting to worry that you'd been replaced by some sort of pod person or something." She smiled to let him know that she was teasing him, and he chuckled in response, a dry rusty sound. 

They'd watched 'Attack of the Pod People' just last week. She still wasn't a huge fan of the weird zombie movies that Norman adored, but she found that once she stopped to watch a few, they were funny in a cheesy sort of way, even if she could do a way better job on the make-up. 

Norman said that Grandma said to put her money where her mouth was, and Courtney had started looking at online tutorials on how to do stage make-up. It was actually kind of interesting, and she was thinking about talking to some of the Theatre kids about helping them out on their next production. If it didn't interfere with Cheerleading practise, of course. 

"Alright. Let me go grab my wallet and I'll be ready to go." Courtney smiled. "You ready?" 

"Yes!" Norman's smile was wide and bright, excited like most kids his age. She ruffled his prickly hair, watching automatically snap back into place. There were people who spent a fortune on hair spray to make it stick up like that, and his grew like that naturally. She wasn't sure if he was lucky or cursed. 

Norman was practically bouncing as they walked to Downtown, pausing once in a while to smile and greet various ghosts that only he could see. She sometimes wondered about what he actually saw, but the brief time with the zombies and the spooky witch face above the town was enough for her. 

He glanced back and caught her expression, slowing down to walk next to her. "They're still people." He said softly, waving to something with a fond smile on his face, nodding to something she couldn't hear. "I mean, yeah. They're dead. But they're still people. Usually all it takes is someone smiling and saying 'Good Morning' to make their day."

It wasn't like there were a lot of people who could see, much less talk to ghosts. 

Her brother, in his own strange spooky way, was a really nice person. 

Norman's cheerful posture suddenly faded, slouching as they walked past a guy cutting his hedges, mumbling a greeting as he gave the latter the man was sitting on a wide berth. The man pointedly ignored Norman, pretending he didn't see her little brother, instead looking at Courtney with a grin and a wink. "Good Morning there, Beautiful." 

It would have taken less than a second to acknowledge Norman. Just to say 'Hi' like a normal person, be polite. It wasn't like Norman had just saved the town or anything. 

A few weeks ago, before zombies, before the Witch's curse, Courtney might have flirted back, just a little bit, not finding anything wrong with this behaviour. Now, she glanced at the guy, then at her brother, with his narrow shoulders hunched, as if he were expecting insults to follow after him, and kept on walking, her head held high. 

Fuck him. Fuck the whole lot of them. 

Norman smiled and nodded at someone, quick and mouse like, then paused, a flicker of surprise going across his face. He turned and glanced back at her, clearly puzzled. "You said it." She shrugged, ignoring the guy's shouts that she was a stuck up bitch. "Sometimes all it takes to make some one's day is a smile and a greeting." 

And sometimes all it took to do the opposite was to pretend they didn't exist. 

Her brother stared at her in awe for a minute, then gave her a wide smile. All it took to make the kid happy was to stop and listen occasionally. 

That's what big sisters were supposed to do, right? Protect their little siblings? 

She smiled and ruffled his hair, watching as it popped right back into the same shape it always had. He ducked his head in mock annoyance, skipping forward a few steps to get to the theatre faster. 

Not so hard, really.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Space Adventure' is from a series of movies that Phineas and Ferb are fans of. 
> 
> For additional background on Courtney and Norman's life before the movie, check the Blithe Hollow Bugle, a newspaper put together by Laika showing snapshots of life in Blithe Hollow for a year prior to the movie.


	2. Perry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perry learns there are some perks to having a son that can talk with his dead Mom.

* * *

"I don't know what it is." Perry said as he hung his coat up on the coat rack, shivering slightly as he warmed up from the brisk autumn air outside. "I have the strangest craving for Mom's meatloaf and mash potatoes."

"Oh!" Sandra greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. "I think we have the ingredients for that in the kitchen. And Courtney’s not home for dinner tonight, so we won’t have to worry about something make for her."

He loved his daughter, but this whole ‘Vegan’ thing confused him. What was wrong with eating a decent cut of meat from a dead animal?

"Yeah, but it's not quite the same." He grumbled to himself. Sandra's meatloaf was good, but it didn't taste quite like his Mother's did. "Too bad Mom died before passing the recipe down." 

He could feel the air suddenly go kind of still, like everyone around was holding their breath. He glanced up to find Norman sitting in front of the TV, his head turned to look at the sofa from the corner of his eyes. 

"Hey, Norman." He said, Norman's gaze suddenly snapping away from the sofa. Perry still wasn't completely sold on the whole idea that his son could speak to ghosts, but he was willing to give it a chance. "Could you ask Grandma to give you the recipe for your Mom to make?"

Norman hesitated for a minute or two before speaking. "Grandma says that her telling me to tell Mom is too much of a bother. But-" He made a face at the sofa, like he was being told something he didn't want to hear. Norman shook his head, having a silent argument with the sofa for a minute before giving a great gusty sigh, deflating. 

" _Fine_." He grumbled, getting to his feet, looking at the floor with a dejected look. "Grandma says she'll teach it to me, because 'a man's got to know at least one recipe to please his partner and I might as well know this one'." The last part was obviously quoting what Mom said, right down to the inflections on the words.

"Rea _lll_ y?" Sandra drawled, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at Perry. Perry chuckled and shrugged. 

Okay, so it was one lesson he hadn't learned from his Mom. Perry had taken after his father, being more of a barbecue man. 

"I think it's a great idea honey." Sandra said encouragingly, walking over and placing a hand on Norman's skinny shoulder, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "It's also a good idea for if you end up living on your own for a while and whoever you're dating doesn't cook. You can't live on instant noodles and take-out." 

He had noticed lately that 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend' seemed to have been wiped from his wife's vocabulary, replaced by gender neutral terms. Perry wasn't sure what to make of it, but didn't feel like bringing it up either, in case this was one of those things that would lead to his being in the dog house. He'd learned to pick his battles.

"Okay." Norman agreed, but he didn't look all that happy about it. He trudged off to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he did so. 

"Do you need help finding the ingredients, sweetie?" Sandra asked, a cross between proud and concerned. 

Norman looked up and to his left, then shook his head. "Grandma says she knows the kitchen like the back of her hand." He reported. Which was true, while Mom had been _living_ with them, she had done most of the cooking, or she and Sandra had taken turns. 

"Alright, but if you have any questions, just let me know." Sandra agreed. Norman nodded, then continued on to the kitchen. After a moment's hesitation, the sink started to run, Norman washing his hands. 

"Well." Sandra sighed, glancing around the room. "I hardly know what to do with myself." It was a disruption of the routine. Usually at this point during the day, she was busy making dinner. Or getting ready to go out for dinner. 

"We could sit for a while." Perry suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist. She gave him a soft smile, leaning against him. "Don't have to worry about who's sitting on the couch for a change." They all avoided the spot where Mom had sat for years, now that they knew it meant actually sitting _on_ her. 

Sandra gave a small giggle. "I'd like that." She said, giving him a small flirtatious look under her eyelashes. He grinned back, the two of them walking to the couch, their arms wrapped around each other. 

They cuddled together on the couch like they had back in college, watching Wheel of Fortune and chatting back and forth as they tried to guess the words before the contestants did. It had been a while since they’d had a chance to just sit like this, no arguments, no kids, just the two of them. 

From the other room, he could hear Norman talking, catching bits and pieces of Norman’s half the conversation, his son animated in a way he hadn't been since his Grandmother died. Norman was finding some part of making meatloaf to be disgustingly cool, making comments about eating ‘squishy brains’. 

A brief lull from the kitchen made them both freeze, their parental senses on guard. Silence usually wasn’t good. Peals of Norman’s laughter followed, then were muffled, their son’s footsteps approaching the living room. 

Norman had his Grandmother’s old apron tied around his waist, his slight figure practically drowning in the flower patterned material, holding his meat and raw egg coated hands in the air, as if here were a doctor preparing for surgery. “Dad?” Norman asked, a corner of his mouth twitching. “Grandma says you don’t like onions-?”

“You betcha.” Perry made a face. Disgusting things. The smell, the taste, the texture. Blech. 

To their surprise, Norman gave a bark of laughter and ran back into the kitchen, apron flapping around him. Perry exchanged a confused look with Sandra. What was that all about?

“Don’t worry dear.” Sandra patted him. “I know you don’t like them. There are no onions in the kitchen.”

Something he was always grateful for. She didn't like brussel sprouts, so they never had them. “Thank you.” He said, giving her a squeeze. They settled down to watch the rest of the show, although neither of them were quite as relaxed as they had been earlier. 

They both heard the squeak of the oven door opening, something sliding inside, then the oven door closing. A few minutes later, Norman made his reappearance. 

“Grandma says it needs to cook for an hour.” Norman said, his head tilted as if listening to someone they couldn't see. “Could you set the timer for me? I can’t reach it.” 

“No problem sweetie.” Sandra rose from the couch and stood up. “Do you need me to fill the pot with water for the potatoes too?”

Norman back towards the kitchen, then nodded decisively. “Please.” While the boy was strong enough to fill the large pot with water and carry it over to the stove, he wasn't quite tall enough to comfortably get it on top without spilling. 

“You got it.” Sandra patted the top of Norman’s spiky hair as she passed, Norman following after her. Perry waited as the timer was set, then the tall pot partially filled with water and set on the stove. 

“Thanks, Mom!” Norman called as Sandra walked back into the living room. Perry raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled back, using his shoulder as a support as she took her previous place. 

“Let’s just say from the smell of things, Norman should cook more often.” Sandra said, sounding pleased. “He’s having fun scrubbing the potatoes now.”

Perry smiled back, not yet quite convinced, but willing to see how dinner turned out. 

The show changed over to Jeopardy, the two of them debating and calling answers out at the screen as pots rattled around in the kitchen, accompanied by Norman’s soft voice. It reminded Perry of when his Mom was still alive, Norman sitting in the kitchen, watching her cook as the two of them merrily chatted away. 

Jeopardy was just finishing up as the rattle of dishes and the patter of Norman’s feet running between the kitchen and dining room. The oven door opened and closed, Norman grunting as he put the pan on the stove. 

“Should I-?” Sandra said, casting a worried look towards the kitchen. Perry shook his head, tucking her closer. 

“He’ll let us know if he needs help.” He reminded her gently and she relaxed. A few minutes later, Norman stuck his head through the door, still wearing the apron, a few small stray globs of mash potatoes stuck to the side of his face. Sandra bit back a smile, obviously wishing for a camera. 

"Dinner's ready." Norman announced, and then disappeared back into the kitchen. 

"Thank you, sweetie." She said, rising from the sofa, Perry following after. The dining room table was already set with three places, a steaming bowl of mash potatoes and a plate full of meatloaf waiting for them. Perry took a deep breath. It certainly _smelled_ like his Mom's cooking. 

"Smells good." Perry commented as Norman walked in, minus the apron and the potatoes on his face. Norman smiled as he sat down in his chair. "I'm cutting?" Perry inquired as he and Sandra took their own chairs. 

"Please." Norman nodded, looking both nervous and eager. Perry nodded, picking up the large knife that was sitting next to the plate for just such a reason. He cut several thick slices off, Sandra holding the plates up for him to rest them on, then added spoonfuls of thick mashed potatoes to the plates before setting them down in front of each of them. 

They said a quick grace, then picked up their forks to eat. Norman watched him expectantly, fork hovering in mid-air as he watched Perry take the first bite. 

Perry closed his eyes as the memories washed over him. Dinners as a family, talking and laughing from the time he was a small child up to this last year. Meatloaf sandwiches taken on picnic lunches. Mom laughing as she made it. Warm dinners on cold nights. 

He realised the room was silent as he opened his eye again, Norman and Sandra watching him expectantly. "It's perfect." He said quietly, giving Norman a nod. "It's definitely Mom's meatloaf." 

Norman's smile was practically incandescent. His son glanced over at the empty seat on his left, his smile getting even somehow wider. "It was fun." Norman announced, taking a quick bite and swallowing before talking again. "And Grandma says there's all sorts of things you can do with meatloaf. Like put hard-boiled eggs in the middle, which look like eyes when sliced. Or ketchup, so it oozes red as it's cut!" 

"Sounds interesting." Sandra exchanged an amused look with Perry. Their son, learning to cook through the gross zombie factor. 

"Next time, Grandma says she'll teach me how to make Meatballs and Spaghetti." Norman continued, his feet swinging. "Since meatballs are similar to meatloaf, just smaller, and I can make them look like tiny brains!"

"The sauce and noodles are pretty easy too." Sandra nodded with a smile. "Looks like we might have another cook in the house."

"It's just a couple of recipes." Norman ducked his head, looking embarrassed. 

"I think it's a lovely idea." Sandra gave Perry a look that said if he knew what was good for him, he'd agree. 

"Hey, if it means I get to eat Mom's food again, I'm all for it!" Perry smiled jovially back, taking a bite of the mash potatoes. It was just the right consistency, creamy, with just a little bit of lumpiness in it to give it a nice texture. There was just something about Mom's food that had that extra kick that made it good. 

Norman glanced over to his left and bit back a grin, ducking his head as he ate a couple of bites, obviously refraining from giggling. Perry raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. 

Perry was starting to find that there were some perks to this whole 'seeing ghosts' thing. And meant that if it made his son and his whole family happy, and occasionally eat food he thought he'd never have a chance to do so again, he supposed he could go along with it. 

Discussion over dinner was light hearted, mostly general chatter, catching up with the days events, plans for the weekend. Norman was excited about a movie marathon with Neil over the weekend, the boys discussing staying over at one or the other's houses. 

Sandra took the dishes when they were done, saying since Norman had cooked, she'd clean up. Norman helped anyway, following his Mom as he took his plate into the kitchen. Perry stretched, rising to his feet, feeling comfortable and full after a good day's work and an excellent dinner. 

He was just passing by the kitchen when he heard his wife ask Norman to let her in on what Grandma's secret ingredient in Grandma's meatloaf was. Perry paused, curious as well. A cupboard door opened and closed, and he leaned in just enough to see Norman pass Sandra a spice bottle half-full of pale yellow something, a small mischievous smile on their son's face. 

Sandra took the bottle in her hand, clapping a hand over her mouth as she muffled a giggle. 

"Onion _powder_?!"

* * *


End file.
